My rating: Collectively, I think maybe 7/10. The individual stories vary in their appeal. In general, I like the dark twisters better than the emotion-tugging ones. Perhaps I’ll stick some ratings on them below.

Tripping back in time to long ago teen reading days when I happily dabbled in science fiction, starting with Ray Bradbury’s fantastical Martian Chronicles – the entry level drug, as it were – and soon moving on to Robert A. Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress and others of its ilk, and, finally, discovering the more than slightly twisted short stories of the ever-angry Harlan Ellison.

Rounding up potential reading for the Century of Books, I pulled this collection of early pulp shorts by Ellison from my son’s bookshelf. He (my son, not Ellison, of course) has taken over my collection of vintage sci-fi, and if I want to time travel the genre I need to make a special effort to go out to the cabin, stand on a rickety old kitchen chair and ascend to the top bunk bed (no ladder – my son and his friends being athletic and bounding types), and, kneeling gingerly amongst the flotsam and jetsam which finds its way to that mostly uninhabited space, go through the book shelves stacked high with a varied collection of (forgive the lazy stereotype) “guy books” – loads of falling-apart World’s Best Sci-Fi collections, most of Heinlein’s output, John Steinbeck, Hammond Innes, Alistair MacLean, Nicholas Monsarrat, John le Carre, Ian Fleming, John Christopher, Bertrand R. Brinley, Robert Ludlum, Michael Crichton – you get the drift.

Leafing through the dusty Harlan Ellison paperbacks, I waffled between Shatterday, Stalking the Nightmare, Gentleman Junkie, I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream… and then I settled on this one, as rather less strident than some of the others. The 1974 reissue also has the bonus of introductory commentary by the author to each of the sixteen stories, always a fascinating addition to such collections, adding context to these otherwise rather innocuous “pulp mag” shorts.

When Harlan Ellison is good, he is very, very good, but when he is bad… well, you know the rest of that little nursery rhyme tag. A few of these stories are highly memorable; the rest, maybe not so much. But still something of a must-read collection for the vintage speculative fiction/sci-fi buff.

Introduction: The Man on the Mushroom – 1974 – Ellison describes the events surrounding the first publication of this collection in 1962, and the utter financial and emotional destitution attendant upon his migration from Chicago to Hollywood, California, and the exceedingly welcome publisher’s cheque which validated his writerly ambitions.

Commuter’s Problem – 1957 – “Thing” was all I could call it, and it had a million tentacles. An ordinary guy living in modest suburbia is vaguely troubled by the not-quite-normal functioning (including the weird garden plant referred to in the first-sentence quote) of the household next door. And then one day the absent-minded morning commute goes on a stop too far. Much too far… Spoiler: Earth is just a suburb. Good for a chuckle: 7/10

Do-It-Yourself – 1961 – Madge retina-printed her identity on the receipt, fished in her apron for a coin, and came up with a thirty-center.It’s amazing what one can purchase by mail order. Like a no-fail, do-it-yourself murder kit. Watch out, loutish husband Carl. (But maybe Carl reads the same back-of-the-magazine ads himself…) Brilliant. This sort of thing is why I keep Harlan on the shelf: 10/10

The Silver Corridor – 1956 – “We can’t be responsible for death or disfigurement, you know,” reminded the duelsmaster. Two opinionated academics take their elemental disagreement with each other to the next level, in a literal battle of the minds. Cleverly imagined: 10/10

Gnomebody – 1956 – Did you ever feel your nose running and you wanted to wipe it, but you couldn’t? A teenage social misfit meets his magical counterpart. Nice twist at ending which I totally didn’t see coming: 7/10

The Sky is Burning – 1958 – They came flaming down out of a lemon sky, and the first day, ten thousand died. Intergalactic lemmings, with a bleak message for Earth. Brrr: 7/10

Mealtime – 1958 – While the ship Circe burned its way like some eternal Roman Candle through the surrounding dark of forever…Homo superior? The crew of a far-roving Catalog Ship mapping the planets of unknown stars gets an unnerving comeuppance. This little story has a sting in its tail, but it felt a bit awkward in execution: 5/10

The Very Last Day of a Good Woman – 1958 – Finally, he knew the world was going to end. Arthur Fulbright knows the future, and doesn’t want to die a virgin. Multiple things going on here, rather darkly. Kind of icky: 5/10

Battlefield– 1958 – The first needle of the “day” came over Copernicus Sector at 0545…and seven seconds. Earthly conflicts are now fought out on the moon, with clinical accuracy of elimination of opponents. The combatants commute to and fro, sharing the same shuttles and getting together to socialize in their downtime, for “peace on Earth” is well-maintained. An eerie tale, all too chillingly possible, one feels: 10/10

Deal From the Bottom – 1960 – There was really quite a simple reason for Maxim Hirt’s presence in the death cell. A condemned man sells his soul to the devil for a reprieve. Too bad Maxim has always been a bungler… Okay, I laughed: 7/10

The Wind Beyond the Mountains – 1958 – Wummel saw the shining thing come down. The crew of a planetary exploration mission need to find a justification to keep their jobs from being cut. Maybe a live specimen from a strange small planet will help? This one didn’t quite get off the ground, in my opinion, though it had its moments: 4/10

Back to the Drawing Boards – 1958 – Perhaps it was inevitable, and perhaps it was only a natural result of the twisted eugenics that produced Leon Packett. Robotics expert Packett is screwed over by his employers. Revenge is inevitable. Beware compound interest! 7/10

Nothing for My Noon Meal – 1958 – There was a patch of Fluhs growing out beyond the spikes, and I tried to cultivate them, and bring them around, but somehow they weren’t drawing enough, and they died off before they could mature.Marooned on a small, barren planet, with his wife’s body entombed in their broken spaceship, a lone man is succoured by oxygen-producing native plants. A chance at escape presents itself; can he bring himself to leave this place he once called Hell? Awkwardly poignant: 4/10

Hadj – 1956 – It had taken almost a year to elect Herber. The Masters of the Universe show up and order an envoy from Earth, but at the end of the long journey to the home world, a humiliating slap-down awaits. A four-page snippet of a story, saved from readerly dismissal by being wryly funny: 6/10

Rain, Rain, Go Away – 1956 – Sometimes I wish I were a duck, mused Hobert Krouse. Trapped in a dismal job, in a perpetually rain-drenched city, Hobert occasionally intones the childhood incantation, with generally successful results. But then one day it is “the other day”… and Hobert finds himself in a bit of a situation. We leave him surreally floating: 5/10

In Lonely Lands – 1958 – Pederson knew night was falling over Sytris Major; blind, still he knew that the Martian night had arrived; the harp crickets had come out. Coming to Mars to live out his few remaining years, Pederson at last finds a kindred spirit who eases his troubled soul. Flirting with the stickily sentimental here, Harlan. Not one of my favourites of this collection; too gosh-darn poignantly sweet: 4/10

6 Responses

This is another interesting short story review, L&P. It was so intriguing that it prompted me to dig out my old, long-neglected copy of “The Essential Ellison” & re-read some of the tales you recommend. My favourite Ellison story remains “The Resurgence of Miss Ankle-Strap Wedgie” – a haunting tale of second chances & lost opportunities set in 1960s Hollywood that contains no sci-fi element at all. Even at his most sentimental or just plain wacky, I find that Ellison generally has something valuable to say about the human (and sometimes even the alien!) condition that makes him worth reading.

I have managed to hunt out a reasonably impressive ten volumes of Ellison on our shelves, but (of course! grrr) none of them containing “Miss Ankle-Strap Wedgie”. An internet snoop showed lots of other enthusiastic endorsemenrs, and pointed out the pertinent book; now going over to ABE to put ‘Love Ain’t Nothing But Sex Misspelled’ (or maybe one of the several editions of ‘Essential’) on the wish list.

Thanks for the heads-up on this one; some of my favourite Ellison stories are the “straight” (as in, non-sci-fi) ones. Must hunt out the very funny anecdote of his very short career working for Disney (less than a day, I seem to remember) which I know is one of the collections we do have handy.

Noted during my search that Harlan Ellison turned eighty in May. I myself have been reading his stuff off and on for well over thirty years, which means he wasn’t exactly young when I hopped on his rickety magic bus; nevertheless this makes me feel like the years are racing along much too fast.

He looks pretty darned good for eighty; long may he opinionatedly flourish!

Isn’t it always the way? Someone recommends a book & it turns out to be the one title by that author that you don’t have on the shelf. A common experience & a damn annoying one.

“The Essential Ellison” is a good bet for anyone wanting to acquaint (or re-acquaint) themselves with a wide selection of Mr E’s non-fiction work. In addition to the above named story, it also contains great non-fiction pieces about his experiences as a juvenile runaway, a gullible lover & as a member of a (pre-online) dating service. All are written with his usual wit & are well worth reading for their honesty alone.

He’s only 80? I thought he was much older than that. Either way, I’m glad to know he’s still with us & hasn’t departed yet for the Great Bookstore in the Sky.

‘The Essential’ does indeed sound to be just that. I think I will go ahead and order this for my husband’s birthday which is coming up next month. We’re tentatively planning an ambitious (for us) road trip in our old Triumph Spitfire through the Rockies – a big loop from home here in mid-BC north to Jasper in Alberta and then through the Icefields Parkway to Banff and back home from the south – a circle trip, in fact, never going over the same road twice – with his birthday/our anniversary as the combined ‘excuse’; this would doubtless be perfect reading for down times en route. (Even if the trip is sidelined, always a possibility what with our sometimes overly complicated lives and the occasional mechanical vagaries of a vintage Little British Car, the book will still be grand reading.)

Very interesting! Thank you for the link. And I do rather agree with the blogger’s final summation regarding the shift in focus and medium of what we tend to classify as sci fi. (Something of a catch-all phrase.)

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These “Reviews” and Ratings

I am merely a reader, a consumer of books for amusement and personal instruction, not a professional reviewer - and that is indeed a worthy profession, an important literary craft - so these posts are merely meant to be one person's reading responses, not scholarly reviews.

Early on in this blog I began rating the books I talked about on a 1 to 10 scale; it was meant to be a quick way to communicate my personal degree of satisfaction/pleasure (or the opposite) in each reading experience.

To emphasize: These are very personal, completely arbitrary ratings. These are merely meant to be a measure of the book's success in meeting my hopes and expectations as a reader.

5 & higher are what I consider as "keepers", in various degrees. A 10 indicates that I can think of no possible improvement. Ratings under 5 are rare & I struggle with giving those, but in all honesty sometimes feel them appropriate for, again, undeniably arbitrary and very personal reasons.

Each book is rated in its own context, NOT in comparison to the entire range of literature, which would, of course, be an impossible task.